"News from home?"
"The usual. Letter from my beautiful girlfriend. Want to see a photo?"
"I'm good, thanks."
"Ah. She's all right."
"All right? You’d take that back if you saw these others. Pretty spectacular, dunno how they got past the army censors — "
"Let's have a look, then-"
"I didn't say you could see them!"
"On second thoughts ... fine."
"Fine? You don't want to see spicy photos of my gorgeous girlfriend?"
"You don't want me to!"
"Well, no — but what's wrong with you? You're a man at war! This is a bee-autiful, scantily-clad girl-“
"Look. If we make it home, and if the poor woman hasn't seen sense, I suppose I'll have to meet her. It'd be nice if I could look her in the eye — "
"Too slow, my friend. Now ... huh."
"It's just ... these pictures aren't actually very spicy."
"Well, for a start, she's wearing a swimsuit, Maes. It's even one of those modest ones with little shorts! Now, perhaps, if there'd been a thong involved …"
"You're jealous, my friend!"
"Yes, you've got me. Poor me, I have no marginally arousing photos of my demure, presumably insane girlfriend — ouch! Not the hair!”
"Hahaha, you girl — hey! Get off my beard!"
"Ah! Okay, I'll let go if you will-"
"Company B, move your lazy asses! The extermination of District 158 is due done today!"
"Ah. Time for work. I'd forgotten."